


Light and the Shadows

by atutsie



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Edo Period, Eventual Romance, F/M, Goro is a real prince, M/M, pt are adopted sibs except makoto and haru, shido is shittier-do, the pt are ninjas, wakaba is alive yay, with long hair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-12-25 00:29:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12024282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atutsie/pseuds/atutsie
Summary: On his castle afloat, there he stands,Shido Goro, the fairest of all the lands.Oh, his copper locks, his auburn eyesAnd his rosy lips that knows no liesWhen the sun rises, he appearsAnd the kindest words he speaks, allaying our fears!In his presence, our prayers are heardA child of the heavens, a blessing to this Earth!aka an AU where goro is a real prince blindly worshipped by his people





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In the brainstorming stage, I hated myself for even conjuring this idea because: 1.) I was not fond of shuake AUs that time 2.) I didn't know shit about old Japan 3.) it is way beyond my comfort zone, but then, the stubborn me refused to waste this plot, and before I knew it I became obsessed with it, dragging my friends with this AU. So now, here's the shuake old Japan AU where goro is a real prince that nobody asked for. I hope you'll enjoy this! btw i'm [atutsieroll](https://twitter.com/maduyi) at twitter. You can talk to me there!
> 
> Special thanks to: 
> 
> Blake – for putting up with my idea dumping and helping me mold this story. I've told you countless times, and I'll say it again, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU that your inbox is always open for my dumb ideas even when I know I 'forced' you to like shuake when your main otp is L/Light.
> 
> Hihazuki – for her awesome beta reading and for shoving futago fanarts/hcs to my face now im into this hellhole with her. also sorry i kept on procastinating. haha lllorzlll

**Fanfic cover by:** **[Art Berry](https://www.facebook.com/artberryavie/) ** (Check out her page! Awesome Goro arts and other persona stuff) 

* * *

 

 

He watches with trained silence, balancing himself with the barely-accommodating branch he's situated himself on. _Conceal your existence,_ his mentor would always tell him. _Be one with the darkness. Be one with nature._ And he does it with perfection, as easy as it is to breathe.  

Stealth is his comfort. Darkness is his home. He stares at the embers that lick through the sky, at the people who have begun swarming around the fire. And while the night appears to be peaceful, he remains cautious; seeing, hearing and feeling his surroundings. 

 _"Beware of the 'Crow'."_ He imprints in his mind, keeping the thought at the forefront.  

The storyteller moves, standing before the fire. She smiles and finally, she begins. 

   
 

 **_Gather all! Gather all!_ **  

 **_Around the fire in this chilling night of fall_ **  

 **_'Tis a tale you dare not to be missed_ **  

 **_'The Prince of Hope' on the Lake of Mists!_ **  

   
 

He hears a subtle click of tongue followed by _'not this shit again'_ spoken under one's breath. He eyes at his side and he sees —even through the dim light— the fingers that fidget erratically on fabric and the trembling of legs. He feels the repressed impatience, he knows and he understands it, but they must wait for their comrades. They must believe in success. _She will be fine,_ he wants to say but instead he taps his shoulders. At the contact, he stills entirely. He turns his head, the skull mask encasing his face glinting grimly as he nods. He does not see it, but he knows there's a small curve of a smile behind it, albeit ambivalent. 

 

 **_On his castle afloat, there he stands,_ **  

 **_Shidou Goro, the fairest of all the lands._ **  

 **_Oh, his copper locks, his auburn eyes_ **  

 **_And his rosy lips that knows no lies_ **  

 

A boy smiles, showing off his teeth, indifferent of the gaps in between. An old woman nods with fondness on her lips as she listens to the young girl who retells the story to her. His chest warms at the sight of them. A small part of him wants to believe that this is the reality _—The prince will save us all!The prince is our hope!—_ that these smiles embody the whole country. Perhaps on the surface, it is indeed as simple as this. But he lives in the shadows and he _knows_ —much more than necessary— which is why _they_ exist. 

 

 **_When the sun rises, he appears_ **  

 **_And the kindest words he speaks, allaying our fears!_ **  

 **_In his presence, our prayers are heard_ **  

 **_A child of the heavens, a blessing to this Earth!_ **  

 

 _But he's just a human like us,_ he thinks.  _A teenage boy alone in that palace. Isn't he sad?_ And yet, these thoughts would always be buried deep in the depths of his mind.   
 

 **_Free of the world's filth, he remains untainted_ **  

 ** _And happiness he spreads to us the devoted_**    
 

He hears movements behind him, adept feet that mask their presence. He remains calm, distinguishing the presence that appeared behind him. He turns his head and sees the silhouette of the feline mask, beside him, a sigh of relief is heard. 

"Joker," she says. "We’re ready." 

He nods. He raises his hand, and finally, he gives the signal. 

Seven figures disperse and disappear into the night. 

* * *

 

If Akira were to be asked by any of the deities his one greatest wish at this moment, it would be the ability to talk to cats. (He has other grand wishes, which he's been trying to achieve, but those are to be told in another story.) He props his chin, sinking deeper into the softness of his palm. He stares into the depths of Mona's blue eyes and the mystery that lies beneath them.  

 _Of all the felines existing in this world, I love you the most Mona-san,_ he thinks _loudly_ in his head, because who knows, maybe it will help. If not, he leaves it to the charms of his eyes to convey this heartfelt message. 

Perhaps in another world, a talking Mona exists and maybe _that_ Akira is able to express these untold emotions of his. 

His thoughts stop when he feels the paws tapping his foot followed by light scratching. 

"We arrived too early, huh?" 

Darkness is still enveloping the sky, but he notes the light —pink, orange, yellow artfully mashed together— almost peeking out behind the castle and the trees. Sunrise is almost here. _Yusuke will love this scene,_ he thinks and imagines how he'd be lost in his own artistic world as he began painting this image. Maybe next time, he'll ask his brother to join him in his morning strolls, as long as no unnecessary questions were asked. 

It's a routine he has duly adhered to. Even before the break of dawn, he would fix himself for the day (which would earn grumbles from his half-awake siblings). He then goes downstairs to ask Sojiro and Wakaba if they need him to run some errands and as soon as he opens the _shōji,_ Mona would be trailing behind him. 

Perhaps it's the calming whisper of the breeze whilst basking in the warmth of the rising sun; or the concurrence of stillness and animated activities at the beginning of the day. Perhaps it was the solitude he rarely has, because most of his day is spent with boisterous crowds —his adopted siblings mostly part of them. 

"Just a little bit more," he says, scratching the back of his ear to appease him, while he plucks a wild grass beside him. "I'll play with you so you don't get bored." 

He sways the grass—left, right, left, up, down, farther, closer— his eyes following Mona's claws as they reach for their target, and when he's about to succeed, Akira pulls his hand away. 

"You can do it, Mona-san." He says, as the cat crouches down, wiggling his tail, eyes looking up at his prey. He lifts his hand a little more, because he knows the cat loves the challenge. More wiggles, and he jumps— 

"Goro-sama! Goro-sama! Will you grace us with your presence today?" 

The grass fell from his hand, leaving Mona with nothing to catch as he jumps in the air. Akira whispers _'sorry'_ watching as his cat rolls on the ground to grab the fallen grass and play with it by his own terms.  

"Ah, hello there, young lad." A familiar face comes to his view as he looks up. He stands up, now towering over the old lady beside him. "Good morning, Akira-kun." 

He nods. "Good morning, Takada-san." 

"I reckon you'd be here again," she says. Her smile is the brightest as she taps his shoulder. "My, what devotion you have for our prince. Goro-sama will surely bless your young soul. " 

He opens his mouth but decides against contradicting her. He knows the lady does not mean ill of her words, but still, it feels wrong. _It dehumanizes the prince,_ he thinks to himself. He shifts his weight, looking up to his fringe as he rolled them between his fingers. He goes for the safest answer: 

"It's on my way home." 

The lady ignores his response, her attention captured by the castle once again. Her brows furrow while her hands are crossed behind her. She says: "The _engawa_ has been devoid of his presence for weeks. I have only caught sight of his servants sweeping the floor. Perhaps he has fallen ill?" 

Putting his hands inside his kimono _,_ he replies: "The town crier would have announced it." 

The expression on her face lightens up, the delicate lines of her face wrinkling around her lips and eyes, which have upturned into amiable half-moons, doing away entirely with its prior distress. " Indeed. Indeed." She nods, a little too enthusiastically. "Thank you, young lad. My worries have been lifted."

Her eyes twinkle with fondness, far-off eyes clouded by nostalgia, she sighs of contentment. "Truly, we are the Blessed Capital and we owe this not only to Prince Goro—" 

 _Stop,_ he tells himself as precaution, because he knows where this is going. _Conceal_ _your emotions. Not the right place. Not the right time._  

"—but mostly to our dearest Emperor Masayoshi—" 

 _D_ _rown_ _them. Corrode them_ _to the pits of your stom_ _ach._ _For now._  

 _"_ —Don't you agree, young lad? _"_  

 _Wake up,_ he wants to say.

But before he was able to answer, something warm and furry rubs around his ankles. _Saved by the_ _bell,_ he thinks. He looks down together with Takada-san who gasps in pleasant surprise. 

"Why, hello there, Mona-san! Good morning!" 

Mona tilts his head, _'meooooooow'_ he says which, by the length and intensity, means _'let's go home now!'_ (according to Akira's self-proclaimed Monaspeak.) 

"Hmmm...." Akira observes the horizon; the sun has risen for quite a while now. The prince is diligent with the time of his appearance, he knows that much. _No luck for today then,_ he thinks. "We must be going now, Takada-san." 

"Will you not wait for the prince?" 

"I still need to help out Sojiro and Wakaba with _these_ ," he replies, showing his string bag that contains the curry ingredients. 

"Ah, I see." She smiles. " The couple's— ah, yes, they're unwed, I always forget." Akira chooses not comment on this. It always happens anyway. "But nevertheless, their curry truly is the best one in town. I shall see you later then." 

Akira bows. 

"Have a pleasant day ahead, Takada-san." He looks back, "Let's go, Mona-san." 

* * *

 

"No prince charming for today, huh," he says to no one in particular. Mona ignores him, continuing to tread ahead of him. 

 _That makes it two weeks,_ he thinks. _Two weeks of fruitless morning strolls._  

He sees it as a lucky charm, like a four-leaf clover in the midst of a field or a standing stalk floating vertically in your tea.  It does not matter if there are no concrete evidences of their validity, he simply believes. When he gets a glimpse of the prince in the morning, and hears his usual speeches —not that he takes his words to heart, he is simply fond of listening to his voice— he understands a little part of people's blind devotion towards him. 

Just a little. 

 _I'll just have to try again tomorrow._  

Futaba's face of blatant disdain comes to his mind. _Akira, you have no glass slippers or fairy godmothers to be chasing after "The Prince-Who-Must-Not-be-Touched"! Yusuke has better chances of attracting ominous tree spirits just by standing there._ He imagines her saying if she knew about his intentions. 

But he's more like a knight in shining armor to rescue this damsel in distress. 

Or the dashing thief who would steal the prince come midnight toll. 

Really, Futaba and her alarming attachments to foreign fairy tales is beginning to rub off on him. He knows though; he's accepted that the prince is on a completely different side of the world. _The enemy's side,_ he thinks, and stops his thoughts there before it goes to places he refuses to tread this early in the morning. 

Mona halts his movements, ears perking up. Akira watches him, anticipating for his next move. He watches the cat sprinting to a nearby alleyway beside a fruit stand, and takes out his pocket watch. _Ten before seven o'clock._ There's still time to go along with Mona's detours. He bows and excuses himself to the vendor as he followed his cat. 

As soon as he reaches the alley, he sees Mona sniffing the left-over sushi on the ground. It has been stepped on, scattering the tuna and rice everywhere; he wouldn’t be surprised if it had been peed on, with the heavy, putrid stench surrounding this alley. 

Akira picks up his cat by his legs, he looks up at him with dilated pupils, pleading to be allowed to eat the sushi. 

"Mona-san, I know you're hungry. But you have a much more wholesome meal waiting at home, " he says, placing him on his shoulder. "Time to g—" 

Suddenly, he spots three figures in his peripheral vision, and immediately jumps behind the trash piling in the midst of the alley, blending into the shadows. He peeks at a lady with a black hair that reaches down to her waist. She is holding two kids, a girl and a boy, both of them looking equally disheveled _—kimonos_ with tattered edges, patched with used fabrics, bare feet. The lady remains calm, trying to reassure the kids who are in a state of overt malaise. She crouches at eyepoint with the kids, fishing out a purse from her pocket to deposit it in the hand of the girl. The kids shake their heads furiously in objection, attempting to give back the purse. But she wouldn’t have any of it; holding their hands and smiling, she tells them something he can’t make out thanks to the bustle of the street behind them. The kids hug the lady and gingerly, she ushers them towards the forest. When she is sure the kids are out of sight, she turns on her heels and walks towards the pile of garbage. The sound of wood against the pavement taps rhythmically on the alley, drawing ever closer to him. 

Realizing that his cover is essentially blown, he attempts to push himself upright, only to be betrayed by his feet when his straw sandals caught on the tuna splattered on the ground.  

The clicking stop and he knows that if he looks to his right, the lady would be there, staring down at his pathetic stance. 

And he does not disappoint himself when he sees the lady, except her hands are reaching for something inside her _kimono._  

Akira extends his hand, "Uhh....." He begins, scratching his black curls. He tilts his head, smiling awkwardly. "I could use a little help?" 

The lady scrutinizes him for a couple of seconds, then she retracts her hand from her _kimono,_ instead she moves up her sleeves and reaches for his hand. He squeezes her hand and helps himself to stand. He was quite surprised that the lady is actually a couple of centimeters taller than him. 

He rubs the back of his neck, "Thank you—" 

"Am I correct in assuming that you will notify the officers about this?" she asks in her calming voice; yet, he could tell as clear as day the caustic hostility swimming in it. 

He allows his hand to fall on his side, staring at the forest ahead. "Ah." He pauses, for a second he sees another disheveled kid with unkempt black hair, running towards the bushes. He blinks it away. " The Yongen-jaya kids, right? I could," He faces the lady, just noticing her peculiar auburn eyes and the flash of anger beneath them. "—but you just helped them escape from the eyes of the officers, right? So why would I even bother?" 

 _Because they are from the 'Cursed Land'? Because they don't have the right to even step a foot inside the Blessed Capital?_ He thinks to himself. 

The lady crosses her arms, and says: "You appear to be indifferent regarding this. It appears that this is not the first time you have witnessed such illicit acts. Perhaps, if I may be so bold..." She tips her head down and a little to the side, placing delicate fingers on her chin. She stares at him, "You have committed the same offense. Would that be the case?" 

"Ah, no. I—" 

He thinks for a while, trying to weigh the consequences of telling a stranger about one of his darkest secrets. But he's experienced the worst of it, so what more does he have to hold back? 

He crosses his arms, leaning his back to the wall. He looks down as Mona begins to rub his fur around his ankles.  

He stares at her, looking more closely to her face, to the curtain of black hair that shapes her face, to the red tint of her lips that accentuated her eyes, the porcelain skin beneath the _kimono._ A living doll, if he were to compare it. _So_ _a_ _person can be this beautiful,_ he thinks.  

"That place… It's my hometown." 

Her eyes widen briefly, she opens her mouth only to close it right away. "P-pardon me then." She folds her hands in front of her, giving him the most graceful bow he's seen. _Just like Haru's,_ he thinks. And he thought Haru is the most refined person he'll ever see in his lifetime. "I apologize gravely for my impudence. I shall no longer speak of this topic in deference to your privacy." 

She stares downwards —fingers gravitating back to her chin once more, he noted. "I do understand now the reason behind your impartiality. But how shall I be certain that your words are to be trusted? We have only been acquainted in a short span of time and have not even exchanged pleasantries yet. " 

Akira lifts his hand to his eye level, raising his pinky. He tilts his head, "How about this?" 

The lady raises her brow, losing it beneath her fringe. She stares with ponder, "I beg your pardon?" 

 _"This—"_ Akira says, hooking the lady's pinky and twining it with his. He moves their tangled fingers, dragging the unwilling partner with it. He breathes in and begins to chant: 

" _Yubikirigenmanusotsuitaraharisenbonnomasuyubikitta"_  

He sings it with disinterest and haste he must've forgotten to breathe. He brings their fingers down, the lady still bewildered of what has transpired. 

"There, I won't tell a soul."

She blinks, trying to the uncover the mystery of her pinky hanging in the air. 

"So….we are in agreement, then?" 

She flexes her pinky slowly, concealing it beneath her folded knuckles. He notes the way she presses it with fondness, and if Akira looks closer, he sees the barest hint of a curve gracing her lips but it was too fleeting that Akira thinks it must've been an illusion.  

She nods curtly. 

"...You truly are an intriguing person. I am perplexed how easily you have bought my trust with a childish vow. " She says after a studying him for a moment, smiling and taking a bow. "Well then, I shall take my leave—" 

He detaches himself from the wall. "I have one question though." 

She blinks her eyes, "Yes?" 

"Why are you dressed as a woman, Gor—" 

He feels the murderous intent for only a split second and before he knows it, he is lying face down on the dirt, the left-over, trampled sushi in his sight.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow. It’s been….months. Ha ha. I knew it’ll end up like this. But….yah...I still plan on continuing this. Anyway, I would like to thank everyone who gave their feedbacks on this fic! Aaaaaaaaa. They motivated me to continue this~ (Also thanks for supporting the futago collab fic. *smooches and hugs everyone*)
> 
> Special thanks to:  
> > **somnicordia (hihazuki)** for beta-reading this chapter!  
>  > **Blake** for giving me his onions lol

Crossdressing Goro fanart by **[Blake](https://blackfelineart.tumblr.com/)**

* * *

 

Akira thinks about the curry he should've been eating right now. He thinks of the intricate medley of flavor in his mouth —spicy, sweet, salty with a pinch  of love— combined with steaming rice to balance the intensity of its flavor. He’d  pair it with the fresh coffee he'd personally brew from the coffee beans harvested with  tender, loving care  that only Haru's garden is capable of bequeathing.

He pretends they have the same taste as the soil lodged in his mouth at that moment.

Except it just worsens his hunger because soil isn’t even edible to begin with.

“Answer my query with utmost candor—  ”

He notices the change of pitch in the prince's voice: a little deeper, firmer yet gentle, the innate air of supremacy seeping through every word. It makes one wonder  of the hard work and struggles that the prince had undergone to achieve such a perfect masquerade. It must've have taken years of training. He wonders —as the soil begins to taste _more_ than  simple soil— the reasons for such lengths to be undertaken.

The prince leans closer to his ear, “—what are you after?” he asks with coiled vehemence in his whisper.

Goro's knee digs deeper on his back as Akira struggles to worm away his hands beneath his crushing weight. _I can't breathe,_ he thinks. He has seized his wrists too, gripping so tight Akira knows bruises will mar his skin afterwards. Wherever did the 'frail and untainted' prince go? Back to his palace where he had safely tucked this faux image of him, probably.

He does not see anything beyond the curtain of black hair surrounding him. He notices the fibers of his wig; they appear genuine even on a closer look; perhaps it is woven from real hair. Yet another proof of the difference in their social standing.

Akira feels the spices spilling down to his shoulders, falling on the ground beneath his nose. If he inhales, it will be a nice combination of soil-mixed-with-something-else and curry powder. _Lovely,_ he thinks with sarcasm. He squints, able to make out the shape of potatoes and onions that have rolled beside his face. Sojiro must be _mad_ , Akira thinks. And his siblings. He can imagine the inevitable barrage from the  angry mob as soon he opens the _shoji_ , out to get their revenge on him for starving them.

That is, if he were able to peacefully go back home without making a detour to the palace dungeons because apparently, he just discovered a secret that might defile a prince's immaculate image. Not to mention, it is not just any prince, but the "Prince of Hope" that everyone worships.

Truly, Goro-sama in a woman’s clothing is an inconceivable reality. A breath of this gossip and the whole country will be feasting on this story. Tempting, but Akira —in all honesty— prefers to keep this secret to himself.

"I see. You would choose silence, and pay little heed to the ramification that should arise thereafter."

Akira closes his eyes. He hears the bustle 1in the distance; he feels the subtle vibrations of rickshaws and carriages against the soil, he hears the unintelligible voices of the vendors and passers-by, and despite all that, he still hears the pads of paws slinking cautiously towards them.

_Any minute now._

"Very well. If you do not wish to reveal your true intentions then—"

He hears a yelp. And as soon as he feels the grip loosening, he pulls away his hands. He rolls to the side, grabbing his glasses along the way, then finally, when he has regained his balance, he stands up. He wears his glasses again, looking around to see his feline friend before him in his protective stance. Mona's furs and tail stand with rage, hissing and growling to ward off the prince.

“Good job, Mona-san. I'll buy you sushi for your bravery, ” Akira says as he pats away the dirt on his clothes.

He would have rewarded his cat with a good stroking underneath his chin were it not for his apparent role as his protector.

Akira stares at the prince whose fingers curl firmly on his shoulder, wincing and probably softly cursing under his breath. Maybe Mona had overdone it. He hopes not, because if anyone knew about his cat even laying a single paw on   _the_ prince, he'd probably be publicly executed without another thought. _Not my cat. Never._ Perhaps Mona would be pardoned if he just surrendered himself.

Akira bends his knee, reaching out to Mona's head, calming him. “He’s not rabid, it’s just his way of… showing affection? He's bitten me on a daily basis," he says. He scratches his throat, eliciting a nice purr from him. He tips up his head to stare at the prince, ignoring the glaring fact that his eyes are furious, he continues: "So worry not, Gor—”

“ _Stop_ —! "

His voice falters for a second, and Akira swears he sees panic flashing in his eyes in that moment. He moves, tipping up his chin, delicate fingers folded together, superiority emanating in his stance.

"I must ask you to refrain from addressing me with that name while I am garbed as a woman. Further inquiries will only cost you my sincere abjuration.” he adds as Akira opens his mouth. “My reasons are of no importance to a commoner such as you.It is not a bid, but a decree from a member of the royal family." Goro presses his hand.

If he were in the Imperial Palace, he would've bowed and sworn his loyalty at that moment. Goro is indeed a _real_ prince, raised to supremacy, destined to govern and be loved by the people. Hell, even worshipped blindly by _his_ people. Akira is once again reminded that they are worlds apart.

How ironic when they are just within each other's reach at the moment.

Akira stands, shifting his weight. Scratching the back of his head, he asks, "Then...how shall I call you?"

Goro is silent, his lashes fluttering in rapid succession. _Caught off guard again,_ Akira thinks. And he conceals the grin with his impassive expression.

"What is your name as a woman?" He tries again.

A tiny _oh_ escapes his lips. "Address me by the name of Keiko. Keiko Akechi. Written as _blessed child_ and _wisdom_." Akira thinks it befits the prince. Goro lifts one eyebrow, and continues: "I believe you owe me an introduction long overdue.?"

He slides his hand inside his kimono. "Akira Kurusu.”

The prince's feet move closer. "You have yet to answer my query, Kurusu-san." Akira tilts his head in response, feigning ignorance. "What are your intentions?" Goro moves once again. "How did you learn about my true identity?" And one final step, he now looks down on Akira. " _Who sent you_?"

"Quite sneaky, _Keiko-san_." The prince frowns hearing the teasing emphasis of his alias. "I believe there was just one question on queue a while ago."

"Eluding my inquiries, I see." He does it again, curling his fingers on his chin while he ruminates. "Be that as it may,I shall not  falte— "

"And to be fair— " Akira says, relishing the flash of offense on the prince’s face at his refreshingly rude intermission. Akira is fairly certain that the prince had never been interrupted in his whole life; entirely led to believe that his opinion will always go unchallenged, "—I was quite literally kissing the ground a while ago so responding was unfortunately not an option."

"A plausible excuse." A curt bow. "My apologies for any harm I might have inflicted upon you, but I still believe it was the right course of action given the threat to my well-being. Nevertheless, it still does not answer my inquiries. Why were you—"

"I am but an unlucky passer-by who merely followed his starving cat to this alleyway."

Goro does not even conceal his displeasure for being interrupted this time. "I cannot trust you yet."

Akira clutches his chest, exhibiting an exaggerated expression of hurt. He pouts, and says: "Even after our _pinky pwomees_? I was under the impression you cherished it just as I did."

"T-that—" A faint tint of pink colors his cheeks. He coughs, composing himself once again. "That was simply an act under my disguise. Nevertheless, your words are but empty excuses to me at this moment. While I prioritize the welfare of my people, self-preservation must still be exercised as a member of the royal family. And I am at risk of jeopardizing my safety with this information you have at your disposal, Kurusu-san."

His eyes are focused on the ground, a timid finger scratching his cheek."Ah, then—" beyond his fringe, his eyes move to Goro's auburn ones, "—how about we strike a deal?"

"Fascinating." He crosses his arms. "Speak of your demands in exchange of your silence. What shall it be?"

_Think before you act._ His mentor had told him. _Be critical. Maintain rationality in your decisions because you are the leader._

"Money? Fame? Power?"

_I'm sorry,_ he tells his mentor and hopes his telepathic message does not reach her. Because really, if any of them would badger him for a reason behind the atrocious decision he's about to make, he'll simply give them the best _Akira shrug_ they've ever seen.

"Friendship."

_But if nothing else makes sense, trust your gut instincts!_ Her voice echoes in his mind, and of all the moments, this is where he decides to follow this dubious advice.

Goro's eyes widen as if he had just witnessed Akira turning into a _yokai_ . A rather hideous _yokai_ that rendered him speechless. His mouth gapes too ludicrous for a prince too illustrious. _Hah. Maybe I can be a poet now,_ he thinks with sarcasm. He wishes Yusuke was able to witness this to immortalize this scene in ink and paper. He'll love it.

"I _beg_ your pardon? Surely you jest."

"It's quite simple." Akira shrugs. "For the whole day, we shall treat each other as friends. And as soon as the sun sets, we shall once again be strangers. _You_ —" he says, pointing Goro, "—as the prince of this land and _me_ —" he continues, pointing himself, "—as one of your people. I shall bring this secret to my grave and I believe Mona-san will do the same."

"Mona-san?" Goro looks down to see the forgotten cat still cautious of him. "Ah, you are referring  to your feline companion."

"Adorable, isn't he?" he swoons, much to Goro’s incredulous staring. "And quite ferocious, I know. He could be friendly once he warms up to you."

Akira bends his knee to pick up Mona so he could prove his point to the prince. (And to save his beloved cat from public execution of being falsely accused as a rabid animal.)

"Friendship..." Goro whispers, a bit perplexed, a bit hesitant to speak the word.

Akira halts his hand currently petting Mona, he stares at the prince. He sees the creases between his brows, auburn eyes boring holes to the ground while his fingers move idly on his chin. He stares at Akira.

"It's a preposterous demand, frankly speaking. What is the merit in this concession? I can only conclude that you have ulterior motives. Speak plainly, Kurusu-san. I'd rather be told the repulsive truth than be played like a fool with your charming lies. "

_Charming, huh?_ He stands up and chuckles. "It's rather simple. I just want to be friends with you. As for ulterior motive, I must admit, it seems painfully obvious that having the much revered prince in my friend list will be a lifetime diadem for such a simple commoner as me. So, shall we head home?"

Akira offers his arm, Goro stares at the limb. Akira thinks the prince may have just seen the greatest mystery unfold with that gangly limb.

Goro’s eyes are moving back and forth between Akira and his awkwardly protruding limb.

"And where is this home you are referring  to?"

" _My_ home. Unless you prefer your palace—"

"No," was his prompt response, his eyes resting on his arm, "Kurusu—"

"Akira. We shall address one another by our names because we are _friends._ ”

"Akira. I'm perplexed. Am I right to assume that _we_ are to spend the whole day in _your_ home together?"

"Yes, your highness." Goro glares. "As friends, it is imperative to get to know each other first. But ah, before that we must replace  the ingredients we have just soiled." He offers his arm once again. “Shall we, Keiko?”

The prince reaches out for his arm. He stops halfway, curling his fingers. He clenches his hand. Akira waits patiently, hopeful of the outcome of his whimsical decision. Goro gives one last once over Akira. He sighs, and finally, he hooks his arm on Akira's.

"I understand. I will stand by my word and perform my part of the deal."

“Perfect."

Except _perfect_ is the last thing Akira would use to describe this arrangement.

_Trust my gut instincts,_ he tells himself.

* * *

 

Akira's hands are trembling and sweaty, cold and _heavy_ because he carries the weight of the whole country on his left arm. Said weight is currently silent, eyes roaming around their humble abode while his fingers clutches dearly to his arm. So even if by miracle Akira's common sense would kick in the last minute, the prince would have him locked in his arms and probably head straight to the dungeons.

_You brought this to yourself. Take responsibility of your actions._

Mona looks up to him, eyes sparkling with the anticipation of the savory meal that awaits him beyond the door. Akira does not have the heart to deny his beloved cat of what he desires. He stares at the _shoji;_ maybe an escape route is still possible for him without compromising Mona’s happiness?  Maybe he can say he was simply possessed, now he’s already been exorcised from the bad spirit so they can just forget about this? Pretend they didn’t talk in the first place—

“The _shoji_ won't open if you simply stare at it,” Goro says, waking him from his reverie. "Kuru— " He raises a brow. “Akira. Is something troubling you?”

“Just preparing for the upcoming battle. How about y—”

He sees Goro devoting his current attention to a piece of paper plastered on the wall.

 

**WANTED:**

**PHANTOM THIEVES**

DEAD OR ALIVE

_In accordance with an order of Emperor Masayoshi Shido, a reward of_ **_1000 ryô_ ** _is hereby offered for the_

_detection and conviction of these persons. They are the spawn of evil_ — _children and allies of the Cursed Land_ —

_who continue to soil the Blessed Capital with their heinous crimes._

_Highly dangerous and still at large! Once sighted alert the authorities and abscond immediately!_

 

Below the texts was the insignia of the group inked in black: a magician’s hat with a mask underneath, flames drawn on its left eye. No sketches of their appearances have ever been produced. The only proof of their existence are the red scrolls plastered on their target’s houses. Up to this day, they remained the faceless vigilantes of the country.

Goro seemed lost in his own thoughts yet his expression remained passive. His stare has gone beyond the paper before him, perhaps to the palace and to the whole country where his thoughts reside most of the time.

“You dislike them,” Akira says.

Goro blinks, his thought bubble popped by his voice. The prince does love to think about things, a lot of _things_ that his surroundings are but a background to the noise in his head. He shifts his head to stare at Akira.

“Forgive me, but could you repeat your question?”

“The Phantom Thieves,” Akira says, his tone even and indifferent. _Play it cool. Be casual,_ he thinks. He stares back and continues: “You dislike them. Your speeches would always speak ill of them.”

Goro’s eyes are on the paper again. Cautious, calculating voice that tunes out any other emotions. “I don’t…..dislike them. I’m simply against their way of _justice.”_

The bitter taste in his mouth lingers constantly, always at the tip of his tongue, prepared to be regurgitated once he forgets to chain his emotions in place.

“But you could say they were only protecting what they cherish, what they believe in. Their hometown and the _lives_ inside that place you all consider as the _Cursed Land_.”

He hears the small cracks in his voice, the small trembles. But he continues his rambles against his rational thinking.

”Their targets deserved those penalties  because the law of this country won’t provide that justice. If they did not interfere my siblings—”

He clamps his mouth right away, hiding his trembling hands in his _kimono._

_Nice. You played it cool,_ he mocks himself. He dips his head down, allowing his curly fringe to fall freely, perhaps able to conceal any emotion slipping in his expression. He stares at the _shoji._

When Akira gazes at his side, he is seized by those auburn eyes. They are curious, _amused,_ closely watching him and his every move. Akira knows his words are taken to heart, simmering and taken into consideration. The _Yongens_ are never heard, they were always _voiceless_ in the eyes of the majority. But the prince—

He hopes his family would finally notice them so this conversation, which he foolishly began in the first place, could just end. Or, if he were more logical, he could just open the _shoji._

“You don’t hold back with your words, do you? Even before the root of your woes. Not even my powerful standing frightens you. You truly are a fascinating fellow,” Goro says, the smallest smile forming on his lips, but it was gone in a flash. ”A supporter of the thieves, I presume?”

Akira shrugs. “They’re the heroes of _Yongens_.”

“Ah, of course. ” He bows. “Pardon my insolence.”

Silence.

Akira sighs, dips his head once again while he raises his hands, wrists attached as he offered them to the prince. Goro tilts his head.

“I was certain my previous statement would give me a free pass to palace dungeons and public execution.” Akira’s extends them closer to his face. ”So…here.”

Goro chuckles and it sounds so light, so carefree, so far away from the restraints of his palace. Akira must be ailing to be thinking more of how _nice_ it sounded than the gravity of his situation.

“Indeed, that is treason to this country, except I am your friend today. You were simply venting your frustrations to your trusted companion. ”

His hands fell on his sides, eyes widened.

“ _God._ Why can’t you be like this everyday?”

In that silence, Akira feels the shift in the atmosphere. A landmine. _Retreat. Retreat,_ Akira thinks.

“I’d rather not,” Goro says.

His voice is too cold, too distant, drawing the invisible line between them.

“From the start, I don’t—”

A pair of feet rush towards the door, whatever pressing tension appeared, it vanished along the noise. The clicks of wood against wood stomp too hard, too fast that Akira thinks they’re on the verge of an earthquake. An exaggeration perhaps, given the fact that she is the lightest of them all—

“Akira!”

The door opens, twin braids flying, a blur of orange and green appear, almost tackling Akira to the ground. Even beneath her spectacles, Akira feels the piercing daggers from her stare.

“Hi Fut—”

“You vile demon! How _dare_ you abandon your family in their gravest time of need!”

Slim fingers wrap around his wrist, dragging the unwilling Akira inside together with Goro who elicited a tiny squeak and almost tripped with the force of that tug. Mona trails after them, sprinting towards the kitchen right away, probably yowling and complaining to Wakaba and Sojiro about his unattended needs.

“You starved us to _death!_ No mercy shall be had! I will avenge my death and haunt you in your dreams—“

She looks back, mouth agape, eyes fluttering as much as she can—probably to blink away the questionable image before her. Her fingers loosen their grip and when his wrist was finally released, another voice roared behind her.

“Akira! Where have you been—” He grumbles half-concerned, half-frustrated, scratching the spikes of his black hair. He pauses halfway, imitating Futaba’s expression except more exaggerated. “Holy crap! Akira brought home a _girl!_ ”

Ryuji, in his typical voice, is comparable to a rooster enough to wake up the whole household —maybe even the whole neighborhood— so when he _yells_ , Akira holds onto the belief that their family houses the _best_ town crier to ever be heard in the country. He keeps this thought to himself though, saving for the day when one of his siblings would raise this possibility. So then, they can discuss Ryuji’s bright future ahead regarding this shift of career.

Akira spots a figure appearing from the _noren,_ he sees the white waist cloth and the hands eagerly wiping on the fabric. Her tied-back hair moves along her fluid strides, dodging all the chairs and tables, sprinting towards them. Futaba and Ryuji are quick to move out of the way.

“My, my, my, Akira,” Wakaba says.

She clenches her hands on the cloth, eyes going back and forth to him and Goro, the latter seems to be rendered speechless and immobile, taking in the whole situation.

He hears another pair of feet, light and hasty. A tumble on a step. A squeal. _Ann,_ Akira thinks.

Wakaba dries her hands one last time, gesturing her hand for a yell. “Sojiro! Cease your incessant scrubbing and come out here to meet your future daughter-in-law!”

Goro’s tongue is quick to respond. “This is a misunderstanding, madam—”

“We must make haste and prepare the ceremony for our Akira!”

But Wakaba’s voice has overwhelmed the whole place with its intensity, submerging Goro’s feeble pleas.

She ruffles Akira’s hair, overt fondness seeping through her voice, flashing a toothy grin. “My, you grow up so fast.”

Akira smiles, Goro pretends he does but he can see the subtle crumples between his brows and feels the tightening of his grip. Goro steps forward in an attempt to gain Wakaba’s attention and says, “Ah, madam, we’re n—”

"Wakaba! We have to know the girl first!” Ann shouts, all heads turn to her now.

She catches her breath as she reaches the end of the stairs, hands on her thigh and the handrail. She stands erect, bare feet and all, she dashes towards the commotion. Her twin tails, in their bed head glory —one’s barely holding on the top, while the other has given up and has completely fallen on her shoulder— bounce with her movements.

She pauses in front of Goro, grinning from ear to ear as her eyes roam around her face. Ann does not notice how he steps back a little when she invaded his personal space, probably caught off guard with the fact that a _gaijin_ speaks fluent Japanese.

“Akira. She is _beautiful._ How long have you been hiding her?!” She holds Goro’s hands, squeezing them before she lifts them. Her teeth flash as she smiles, lashes fluttering in awe.  “And you are?”

A pause.

“Keiko Akechi, written as _blessed child_ and _wisdom_ ,” he says, slipping away his hands with discretion. Ann does not seem to mind the lost of warmth, her smile remains brimming with anticipation. Goro’s arm hooks on Akira’s once again, personal space be damned.  ”But ah, allow me to expl—”

“Don’t be too hasty, Wakaba. We should meet this lady’s parents first and get their permission before we prepare for anything.”

Sojiro appears from the _noren,_ grumbling to himself as he scratches the back of his head. Goro, for the third time since he’s arrived in this household, was interrupted. To think that he’s _the_ revered prince, whose every word spoken from his blessed mouth is worshipped by the whole country. Akira thinks that this moment is the birth of the best anecdote to be told in history.

Ann steps away, moving closer to Ryuji, the latter telling her something as he picks at one of her messy curls. Ann glares at him and Akira can see the beginning of an unending bickering if they’re left unsupervised.  Sojiro stares at Goro, raising an eyebrow —which he believes to be a sign of approval— before he looks at Akira.

"And _you,_ young man, pray tell me what happened to the curry ingredients you were supposed to buy?”

He glances at Goro who’s already staring at him. Akira smiles and says, “On the ground. Together with my heart when I fell head over heels for her.”

Goro digs his nails, dragging his arm down, perhaps with the intent of taking his limb off. He leans closer to his ear.

“ _Akira,_ ” Goro whispers, a little flustered, a little annoyed. “This is _not_  part of our deal.”

He thinks of Haru’s freshly picked and plump tomatoes when he sees Goro’s cheeks and he’s always been too tempted to squish them but never did because it would break Haru’s heart. He would’ve continued this charade too if not for his currently grumbling stomach.

Akira coughs. Finally, silence befalls the whole household, all eyes are on him.

“I simply guided her here since she’s been so curious about the infamous curry of the Sakura household.”

“Ah— yes, indeed. It’s been the talk of the town and I wanted to have a taste of it myself since I’ll be departing tomorrow at dawn.”

The brimming energy in the air dissipates in that instance except for Wakaba, whose eyes glint with some mischievous plan brewing inside.

“We’ll never know where fate would lead us,” she teases. ” Who knows, the red strings of fate might’ve already been tied at this moment. I’ll stay hopeful.”

She winks before disappearing to the kitchen once again.

“Glad to hear stories of my curry’s been passed down to town. Anyway, _o_ _jou-chan,_ since our Akira here has gone through the trouble of escorting you, your first curry will be on the house.”

"Eh—ah—No! I can pay— "

Sojiro takes the string bag from Akira, waving at Goro before he goes back to the kitchen.

“C’mon Keiko-chan! You must not refuse free food! Just wait here with Akira while we prepare the table and food!” Ann says. “Wakaba! Let me help you—”

The rest of her words are lost in the bustle of the kitchen.

“Oi! Ann! Fix your bed head first! Birds will flock there soon enough!” Ryuji yells, following suit, unaware of the silent trails of Futaba behind him.

Finally, Goro and Akira are the only ones left standing in the midst of the shop.

“Your family...” The prince says, breaking the silence between them. Akira stares. ”Ah, are they—”

“Except for Sojiro—” He says, foreseeing the rest of his question. He adjusts his spectacles. “—yes, we all came from Yongen-jaya.”

Goro arm slips away from his.

“Are you certain about this?” he asks, firm and sharp, perhaps a bit of concern laced in his tone.

Akira tilts his head, shameless as he is, he flashes a smirk much to the prince’s dismay.

“ _Are you?_ ”

Goro smiles. A response to his challenge.

“A deal is a deal.”

And once again, their arms entwine. Akira stares upstairs. He prays to any gods out there that luck will continue to favor him even just for this day, willing away the anxiety pricking at him as they move forward.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm.....still trying to paint the whole image of this world in my head. It's....so....complicated.... Anyway, I hope I was able to inject the plot here and there properly. haha. Feedbacks are very much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Original plan is that it's just gonna be a long two-shot but idk i think i want to try investing on this AU some more to test if I can finally write and finish a multi-chapter fic. I posted it now so i can focus on what i really need to do at this moment. 
> 
> P. S. Im sorry Blake. I'm a weak person. lol.  
> P.S.S. i need to learn making outlines.


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